


Someday We'll Find it

by thewightknight



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Family Feels, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Character Death, Pining, Skywalker Family Drama, as close as I will ever come to a slow burn, happy endings, holiday celebrations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-03-03 08:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13337013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: Kylo had begun visiting the graveyard where his grandparents were buried the day he got his driver’s license. The only other person he ever saw there was the old caretaker. Years passed and his life grew more and more solitary, and he’d become resigned to the fact that his most faithful companions were the long departed. And then one day, a stranger appeared, awakening in him a longing for something he never thought he could have.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this as a [meetcute prompt from this list](https://thewightknight.tumblr.com/post/159312526023/here-have-some-aus-as-if-there-arent-enough-on) and it grew legs.
> 
> This was the original prompt:
> 
>  
> 
> _“so not to be rude or anything but i’ve been coming to this cemetery at this time on this day every week for fucking years and i’ve always been alone up until now seriously what the hell” au_
> 
>  
> 
> Title taken from [The Rainbow Connection](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S2DTLbTQj0I), because I am a sap.

The graveyard was an hour and a half drive from their home. Kylo had made that drive at least once a month since he’d first gotten his license. At first the caretaker had viewed him with suspicion, the gangly teen in the leather jacket and stompy boots invading his precious space, but when Kylo merely brought flowers and sat in front of his grandparents’ tombstones, he mostly stopped giving Kylo the stink eye. And when Kylo began helping out, clearing weeds and scrubbing graffiti off of the older stones, he started to get grudging smiles when he showed up.

He didn’t go off to college after graduation like his mother wanted. Instead he found a creaky old bungalow to rent, with an attached lean-to. He started fixing things – mainly appliances and cars. He picked up a few carpentry jobs too. As the months, and then years, passed, he wheedled most of his dad’s old tools out of Leia bit by bit. After a few years he talked his landlord into selling him the bungalow, and in the months that followed it became less creaky, and the lean-to turned into a carport and then a full garage.

He’d cut over an hour off his travel time since he moved. Once he figured out the state patrol never bothered with the back roads he shaved even more time off the trip. He went from monthly trips, to every other week, to weekly. Every Thursday morning he’d put up a “CLOSED” sign on the garage door, fill a thermos with coffee, make himself a couple of sandwiches and hit the road. During spring and summer he’d stop and pick flowers from the side of the road to place by the tombstones. He’d get there around ten in the morning usually and go around, picking up the last week’s flowers and replacing them, weeding around the headstones as he went. He’d talked the caretaker into starting a compost pile, and he’d turn that next. He used the result in dirt to fill in depressions from time to time, peeling up the sod and replacing it over the newly leveled ground.

After that, weather permitting, he’d sluice himself clean at the pump and take his place next to his grandparents’ plot to eat his lunch. During the summertime sometimes he’d nap there, basking in the afternoon sun. On rainy days he’d take shelter under the little gazebo in the middle of the cemetery. The drum of raindrops on the roof lulled him into a strange kind of peace. During the winter he’d retreat to his truck to eat, sometimes sitting there until the windows started to frost up.

In all his years coming there, he’d never seen another human besides the old caretaker. All the other graves seemed to have been abandoned, and when he’d asked Lor San Tekka about it, the old man had shrugged. Some of the nearby towns had dried up and blown away when the mines played out and no one else cared to make the drive to come and visit. To be fair, his grandparents were the newest residents and they’d been buried almost fifty years ago.

“So I'm retirin’ at the end of the summer.”

Mr. Tekka’s voice came out of nowhere and Kylo jumped.

“I recommended you for my job. You might as well have it, seein’s how much work you do around here. It don’t pay much, but it gets you benefits and I asked the state and they don’t mind if you stay at your house instead of here and keep doing your fixin’ up stuff.”

Kylo blinked. That was more words he’d heard the old man string together in all the years he’d been coming here.

“It’s all online now, but you can go here to apply.”

He handed Kylo a slip of paper onto which he’d painstakingly hand-written out a URL for the job listing.

“Um, thanks…” he started to say, but Mr. Tekka had already started walking away.

He’d been in the middle of replacing one of the rails for the split fence. There was enough deadfall in the woods surrounding the cemetery that a short walk usually found him something that would do, with only a bit of trimming. He’d already found a likely piece  and had been in the process of shaving down the end when Mr. Tekka surprised him. He’d lifted it in place and almost had it set when he got the second surprise of the day.

“Excuse me? Hello?”

Even more startled by the second interruption, when he jumped this time the log slipped out of his hands and fell on his foot. Shrieking, more from startlement than pain, he stumbled backwards, windmilling his arms frantically to try to keep his balance. He still went over, tripping over his toolbox and landing hard on his butt.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to surprise you like that!”

Recovering, he took in the new arrival, struck wordless by the sight. Gorgeous green eyes, wide with surprise, framed by golden lashes. A red halo of hair set off pale skin. Thin lips that still managed to look sensual even when pursed with worry.

"Hello?" The stranger snapped his fingers in front of Kylo's eyes. "Did you hit your head?"

He finally found his voice. "That's not where my head is located." He had been told to pull it out of his ass on more than one location, but he didn’t need to tell this handsome stranger that. "Sorry. I'm not used to seeing other people out here." Aside from himself and Mr Tekka, he couldn't remember ever seeing another human being visit the cemetery, in fact.

"It is hard to find. Here, let me." The man offered his hand as Kylo started to stand. He took it, more out of politeness than any need of assistance, as the man looked like a stiff breeze might blow him away. The strength behind the hand surprised Kylo, pulling him up faster than he expected and he overbalanced, pitching forward into the visitor. The redhead gave a surprised squeak as Kylo knocked into him and they both went over, Ren landing on top of him.

Inches separated their faces and he froze, mesmerized by the changing colors in the stranger's eyes. The stranger appeared equally fascinated, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks as he stared back. After a few breaths, he realized how they must appear. Mr. Tekka might have heard the commotion and he didn't want the old man to change his mind about the job recommendation. Pushing himself up, he scrambled to his feet, his turn to babble apologies as he helped the man right himself.

"Sorry, you took me by surprise. No one ever comes out here, like, ever."

"Really? It's in amazing shape." He still held the stranger's hand, he realized. He shook it, a few quick pumps before releasing it.

"I'm Kylo."

"Hux."

An awkward silence stretched out between the two of him and he rushed to fill it.

"So why did you come out here?"

"Oh, I do tombstone rubbings."

"What's that?"

"I can show you - that'd be easier than explaining." Hux had a charming lilt to his voice, and he would happily have listened to the man talk for hours. Hux had a backpack, which he'd dropped when Kylo flattened him. The poster tube that stuck out of the side contained a roll of large sheets of paper. One of the side pockets held a plastic container that contained discs of brightly colored swirls of wax.

"Melted crayons," he explained as he set them aside. The backpack also held a spray bottle of water and a roll of paper towels.

"It works best if you clean off the dirt first. I don't touch stones that look like they might be fragile. It'd be horribly disrespectful to damage them."

He picked one seemingly at random. Kylo had learned a bit of the history of everyone buried here from Mr. Tekka, but this particular one he was intimately familiar with.

"Raymus Antilles. He was a pilot during World War II."

"Relative of yours?"

"Family friend. He knew my grandfather. Well, my adopted grandfather. My biological grandparents died when my mom was just a baby."

"Are they buried here?"

"Yeah, right over there. That's why I come here."

"I could do a rubbing of their stones for you, if you like?"

He watched, fascinated, as Hux demonstrated. First he sprayed the stone with a few spritzes of water and dabbed at it with some folded up paper towels. Then he drew out a roll of paper sheets from the tube. Uncurling one sheet from the roll, he held it up to the stone, trimming it to size with a pair of small scissors, then taped it to the stone using blue painters' tape. Finally he picked out one of the wax discs and started rubbing it back and forth across the stone.

"You can use charcoal, but then you need a setting spray. I like this way better. I make my rubbing wax myself with old crayons. I like the rainbow effect." Bit the details from the stone started showing through. As he worked, Kylo rambled at him, relating the bits he knew of Captain Antilles' war history.  Hux made interested  noises as he worked, encouraging him in his ramblings. 

When Hux had finished he peeled the tape off from the stone, carefully checking to make sure he'd gotten it all before wadding it up and putting it in plastic shopping bag he pulled out from one of his backpack's many pockets.

All in all Hux did ten rubbings that afternoon. Kylo stayed long past when he would have normally left, enjoying the other man's company. The afternoon wound to a close when Hux used the last of the sheets of blank paper in his tube.

"I'll be around for a few days. I'm staying at a campsite a couple of towns over. Could I meet up with you again and pick your brains about local history?"

The sidelong glances Hux shot him under lowered eyelids belied the diffidence in his voice and Kylo's heartbeat picked up in response.

"Sure. I'd like that."


	2. Chapter 2

The break in his routine, going in to the graveyard on a Friday, his second visit in two days, had him on edge, ill-fitting in his skin. Hux hadn't said what time he might show up and he resisted the urge to race there. He made breakfast, brewed a pot of coffee and sat at his dining room table, working at a book of crossword puzzles he'd picked up at the drugstore that winter until he'd finished a second cup. Then he washed his dishes and made a lunch, packing an extra sandwich and some apples, before he let himself leave the house.

Clouds loomed on the horizon to the south as he drove, grey and menacing. He hadn't turned on the radio before he left so he fiddled with the dials on the car stereo. As usual, here on the ass end of nowhere, he got mostly static, and after a mile or so he gave up, reminding himself again that he needed to get a better antenna for the truck.

The wind had begun to pick up when he drove into the small parking lot. Hux's truck was already there, shades rolled up on the windows in the camper back. He couldn't resist taking a peek inside. A sleeping bag and a deflated air mattress were rolled up and stowed in a corner, secured with bungee cords to the cargo hooks. Several plastic totes, a cooler and a suitcase were strapped in next to them, with a camp stove tucked in between. Another open bin held split logs and kindling. 

The entire footwell for the passenger seat was taken up by cardboard tubes and rolls of paper and maps were scattered across the dash. Hux had been up and down the east coast, if their condition was any indication. A local map sat in the driver's seat, with circles in red marking the various small cemeteries scattered across the county. To his disappointment, all of them had been x'ed out but his. 

Suddenly realizing he'd been snooping, he forced himself to step back, away from the truck. Anything he wanted to know about Hux he should ask the man himself.

Hux had been there for some time, it seemed. He'd already done several rubbings, including the promised set from Kylo's grandparents' stones.

His footsteps crunched on the gravel path and Hux looked up, smiling, as he approached.

"Good morning! Do you want some coffee?"

Hux brewed it black as night but cut it with copious amounts of sugar and milk. He rattled on as Kylo sipped from the battered tin mug Hux had handed him. Already primed from the two cups he'd had at home, the third set him to vibrating in his skin. After a bit he excused himself, taking out his nervous energy on the stand of blackberries that had started to sprout in one corner of the yard. Hux hummed to himself when he wasn't talking and he caught snatches of it as he worked. When Hux moved to a new stone he'd pause and call out the details he knew about the markers' residents before returning to work.

Mr. Tekka appeared at one point and took the two of them in with a raised eyebrow. Ambling over where Kylo stood, he murmured "Leave the blackberries for another day and do something safer. So you can take your shirt off." He left Kylo gaping after him as he sauntered over to Hux, making a bit of small talk before getting the wheelbarrow out of the toolshed and beginning his rounds.

He stuck with the blackberries and ignored Mr. Tekka’s headshake, but he’d already gotten most of the clump rooted out so it would be suspicious if he stopped. And taking off his shirt seemed obvious, desperate even. He compromised. Once he’d cleared the vines he took a break, stripping down to his tank top before taking a long drink of water. Hux didn’t stare that he could see but he felt a prickling at the base of his skull when he had his back turned.

The first clap of thunder took them by surprise, followed immediately by a crack of lightning. He should have kept an eye on those clouds. They’d crept up over the course of the morning, the gentle breeze that had kept him cool while he worked moving them inexorably across the sky.

“That looks nasty,” Hux said, mere moments before the first splatters of rain hit. “Shit!” He jumped at another near-simultaneous bang and flash.

“It’s going to start pouring any minute now. Why don’t you follow me to my place and we can wait it out there? It'll be warmer than your truck or a campsite.”

Hux hesitated for an instant, then nodded. Kylo helped him gather his things and they raced for the parking lot. He took it slower than normal on the way home, both for the newly slick roads and with an irrational fear that he’d lose Hux along the way. The roads were straight and level for the most part and the crossings clearly marked, so there wasn’t any real danger of that, he scolded himself, but he still kept his speed down.

Rain began to beat at his windshield and he turned on his headlights as he kicked the wipers up to high, now forced to slow down to a crawl as visibility continued to deteriorate.

Finally he turned into his driveway, gesturing for Hux to park next to him in the gravel apron in front of his house. He made a dash for the door, soaked to the skin in the few seconds it took him to reach the shelter of the porch. Hux followed hard on his heels, laughing as they tumbled into the house together.

“Does it get like this often?” Hux asked, shoving his dripping hair out of his face with both hands.

“Once in a decade, if that. Hang on. I’ll grab us some towels.” Kylo shed his shoes there at the door and this time he did strip out of his shirt as well, leaving it in a sodden pile on the mat. Goosebumps broke out on the back of his neck as he dug towels out of the hall closet, and not from the chill.

“Shit. I left my suitcase in the car.”

“No problem. I can find something dry for you.”

His tees were comically large on Hux. The sweats worked, but only because they had a drawstring at the waist. Their feet were of a size, so he loaned Hux his sheepskin slippers and puttered around the kitchen in two pairs of socks as he started dinner.

"Nothing fancy," he apologized, adding some extra garlic and chopping up some fresh tomatoes to add to the spaghetti sauce.

"It's better than pork and beans by a long shot."

Having someone else in his space took a bit of getting used to, but he found he didn't mind it. They fell into an easy silence in between bursts of conversation, the drumming of rain on the roof punctuating their words and making the pauses less empty. Kylo dug out a six pack of beer from the back of his fridge and they’d both almost finished their second by the time the meal was ready.

A couple of wooden crates and a piece of wood from the garage turned into a reasonable facsimile of a table, sparing them from balance their plates on their legs and giving them a place to set their bottles. The storm had rendered his usual poor reception even more non-existent than normal, but nature provided entertainment in place of sitcom reruns, and the beers started Hux rambling.

"I'm planning on doing a book.  _ Forgotten Graveyards of the Northeast _ ." He gestured above his head with his free hand, as if he was tracing out letters on a billboard. "After this summer I should have enough material, between the rubbings and pictures. I only need to do a little more research." He began to nod shortly afterwards and it took very little encouragement to get him sprawled out on the sofa. The throw Kylo kept over the back didn't cover him completely - his feet stuck out the bottom. Rummaging around, Kylo realized how unready he was for any kind of company, ending up stripping the comforter from his bed and pulling an old quilt out from the attic for himself.

Even though the likelihood of having other overnight guests was practically non-existent, he made a mental note to himself to lay in a bit more in the way of linens. His bungalow only had the one bedroom, too, but he could do something about that. It would be nice to have some extra space.

He slept in snatches. It wasn't the storm that disturbed his slumber, but the presence of another in the space he'd made his own. His guest slept peacefully. Not a snorer, either, or at least not that he could hear over the drumming of rain on the roof. But the unaccustomed knowledge of not being alone gnawed at him, teased at him. In the dead of the night he’d half convinced himself that he'd imagined Hux, some tantalizing ghost come to haunt him with the promise of company, and that when morning came the sofa would be empty except for the rumpled blankets, and he'd find only one set of plates in the sink.

In the wee hours he snuck out of bed to reassure himself that his guest wasn’t a figment of his imagination. Hux had wrapped himself up in the comforter, only a patch of red hair visible on one end and the tip of one toe peeking out on the other. Sternly telling his brain to stop with the nonsense, he tucked himself back in and drew the covers up to his chin, forcing himself to close his eyes. He concentrated on his breathing, an old exercise he hadn't used in years. Inhale and count to five. Exhale, count to ten. Inhale. Exhale. Somewhere around the twentieth iteration he finally drifted off.


	3. Chapter 3

Rain greeted him when he woke the next morning. Grey clouds still blanketed the sky, not a hint of dawn lightening the gloom. A damp chill permeated the house so he kicked up his cranky old thermostat. When the radiator began pinging, Hux began to stir on the sofa.

Nothing separated the kitchen nook from the living room so he kept stealing glances in that direction as he began boiling water for coffee. Rummaging around in the cabinets and wincing at every creaky hinge, he found a box of Bisquick. The instructions called for milk and eggs, of which he had neither. At least he hadn't run out of syrup, but he didn’t have any of the real stuff.

He melted some butter in his frypan and used that and water, adding a little at a time until he’d gotten the proper consistency. When was the last time he'd made two meals in a row, he wondered as he poured the first of the batter into the pan? While that cooked he rummaged around in the freezer, chasing a foggy memory of a partial package of bacon. With the frypan in use for the pancakes, he pulled out his smaller saucepan, putting the frozen chunk straight in the pan, heat on low, starting on one side until it thawed enough to loosen a piece and then flipping it and repeating the process.

Remembering Hux's coffee from the day before he added a couple of extra scoops of grounds to the pot and let it brew twice as long as he normally did. Running the result through his strainer, he grimaced at the first sip. No milk, he realized. He began adding spoonfuls of sugar to his mug, testing after each stir. It took six before it reached what he considered drinkable.

Bit by bit Hux emerged from his cocoon, nose wrinkling as he sniffed.

"Is that coffee?" Kylo covered up a grin with his mug as Hux shuffled across the floor, still wrapped up in the comforter, a lanky burrito with haystack hair. He poured Hux a mug, holding the pan over the sink and managing to spill only a little. Hux took the lack of milk in stride, heaping spoonfuls after spoonfuls of sugar into the mug. Kylo forgot to count at the start but Hux put in at least ten.

“Will this stop any time soon?” Hux gestured at the rain splattered window with his mug in between sips.

"No, it’ll probably go on like this all day. The worst is past, though. Looks like we’re through with the light show, and we made it through the night without losing power." He'd been keeping the pancakes warm in the oven, so he pulled them out and flipped a couple onto plates, stacking bacon next to them.

He tried to tell himself that the lack of eggs and butter didn't make too much of a difference, but couldn't maintain the illusion after Hux took his first bite.

"Sorry. I need to make a grocery run."

"No, it's all right, really." He fell a little bit in love with Hux right there and then, as Hux proceeded to take a second bite.

They polished off breakfast in silence, Kylo watching in amazement as Hux refilled his mug twice with the sludge he'd made. After they finished breakfast they did the dishes together. Hux insisted on washing, pointing out it would be better for Kylo to dry as he knew where everything went.

As they worked he saw his little bungalow through another's eyes for the first time since he'd moved in: the shabby cabinets with their peeling paint, the floors stained and worn, grout missing from between the tiles on the counter. He'd never bothered with furniture besides the sofa and his bed, relying on scavenged crates for flat surfaces and building bookshelves with cinderblocks and boards. The interior had been due for a repaint before he'd rented the place and he'd never gotten around to that, even after he went from renting to owning. At least the walls were solid now. They hadn’t been when he’d first moved in. He'd used old sheets for curtains, tacked to the wall above the windows, and pulled back with bits of rope attached to nails in the walls during the day. The longer he thought about it the more he was amazed Hux hadn't bolted for his truck immediately after he'd walked in.

Hux had been talking continuously while his thoughts wandered, and Kylo realized he'd asked a question. It took him a few moments to replay the last words Hux had spoken.  _ What do you do on days like today? _ At least it looked like he was thinking of an answer and not woolgathering.

"I've usually got a few projects in the works but I'm at loose ends at the moment. If you'd be willing, I'd love to get under your hood. Your engine sounds kind of rough."

An eyebrow shot up, and something about Hux's posture changed. Somehow he managed to give the impression of peering up at Kylo through his eyelashes even though they were the same height. "That's a bit forward of you. I mean, we have just met."

"I can understand how you wouldn't want anyone to tinker around with your vehicle, but I am a pretty decent mechanic."

"Oh, you meant my truck?" And with a minute shift that flash of coyness disappeared, or had Kylo imagined it?

"Of course I meant your truck. What did you think I meant?"

"Nothing, never mind. I need more coffee. And maybe a shower."

Hux had hung his keys over Kylo's on the hook by the front door. When he pulled the truck into his garage he brought Hux's suitcase inside, leaving it outside the bathroom. It wasn't until he'd almost finished adjusting the truck's timing belt that it occurred to him how Hux might have misinterpreted his words. By that time Hux had been sitting in the old recliner he had in the garage for almost an hour, reading a book he'd picked at random from Kylo's makeshift shelves. Since no harm seemed to have been done he didn't bring it up again.

When he started up Hux's truck again he smiled in satisfaction as the engine purred steadily along and shut off without rattling.

Lunch was easier to manage than breakfast. He had sandwich meat and sliced bread and cheese and a variety of condiments, and had filled the door with sodas from the Mexican grocery the next town over.

Unbelievably, Hux selected a Coke to go with his sandwich. How much caffeine could one man take in over the course of one day? He'd finished the first book he'd picked up and had moved on to the second, in one of Kylo's favorite series, about a newspaper reporter who solved mysteries with his Siamese cat. Kylo had been working on filling out the series for years, always hitting up the used book vendors at swap meets, and had managed to collect twenty one of the twenty nine novels so far.

Over lunch he tried to refuse payment for the work he'd done on Hux's truck and ended up agreeing to let the other man take him out for dinner. The clouds had begun to break up by the time he finished straightening the garage, glimpses of blue sky peeking  through. After a quick shower and change of clothes, he and Hux piled into his truck and headed off to the local tavern.

Just as they pulled into the parking lot Hux pointed.

"Look! A rainbow! A double rainbow, even!"

"Triple."

"No!"

Kylo pointed. "If you squint you can make it out. There. See?"

"Dammit, I wish I'd brought my camera."

Kylo didn't need a camera. He'd never forget Hux's face, right at this moment. And when Hux turned the full force of that smile on him, he forgot to breathe. It only lasted a moment, Hux's attention returning to the sky, so his reaction went unnoticed.

Trying to calm himself, he choked out a strangled "Hungry?" and bolted from the truck and into the tavern.

Maz Kanata had taken over the place after her husband had passed away, somewhere between twenty and thirty years ago. The place had never had a name. Everyone just called it "the tavern." At some point as joke, she'd had a sign made for it,  **TAVERN** , in big wooden letters hanging from the eaves. One by one, the last four letters had fallen off, leaving only the "T" and "A" by their lonely selves. It had become a running joke now, what "TA" stood for, and every time someone asked Maz she told them something different.

Tonight was so different. As they walked in the door, Maz shouted at them from behind the bark. "Welcome to Takodana!"

"Don't ask," he told Hux as they slid into a booth. "Tomorrow it'll be tangerines."

"What is 'Takodana', anyways?"

Hux ordered a Dr. Pepper to go with his burger.

"How do you sleep?"

"What?" Hux asked, halfway through the glass already.

"Nevermind."

He ordered a beer, a stout, something he could sip. Only the one, as he'd been the one to drive.

The regulars eyed them, curious about Hux, but left them alone. Speculation would fly, Kylo knew, and the next few times someone brought in their car or came to pick up their new cabinet or refurbished chair, they'd work in a few questions. They didn't get new faces in here all that often. The summer people usually drove right by the dilapidated building and hit up the sleek diner downtown.

Maz winked at him as she brought over a refill for Hux's soda, and made an "ok" symbol with her thumb and forefinger behind Hux's back as she walked back to the bar.

They ended up staying longer than he'd expected as Hux asked him questions about the history of his cemetery and the region in general. Kylo was happy to supply details, as it kept Hux's incredibly green eyes glued to him. Hux listened with his whole body, focused on Kylo’s words in a way that made the burger somersault in his stomach. The side of Hux’s foot had come to rest against his under the table while they talked, pressing lightly into his arch, and the simple contact warmed him more than was reasonable. 

When they left, Hux came to a dead stop a few paces into the parking lot. 

“Look at that!”

Kylo was confused for a moment, until Hux pointed at the stars.

“I’ll never get used to that. Don’t get skies like this, living in a big city.”

He'd almost run into Hux when Hux stopped and he stood so close to him now it would have been the easiest thing in the world to wrap his arms around Hux. But he didn't. And when he unlocked the passenger door for his truck, he could have handed him in, like a gallant gentleman of old. But he didn't. And when they stopped at the railroad crossing and sat there waiting for the train to pass, he could feel Hux's eyes on him and he could have leaned across and kissed him, but he didn't. Because Hux would leave, probably first thing tomorrow morning, and why court the heartache his leaving would cause?

After Hux had tucked himself into the sofa for the evening, Kylo retired to his bedroom as well and spent a second night tossing and turning, staring up at the ceiling, counting his breaths until dawn.

He didn't try pancakes again. Instead they had toast with butter and the remnants of a jar of strawberry jam he'd unearthed from the back corner of his refrigerator. Hux filled up his thermos with the rest of the pan of coffee, dumping at least a cup of sugar in on top of it, and Kylo stood, awkward, as Hux loaded his suitcase back into his truck.

"Well, thank you for the shelter from the storm. And the company."

"No problem. If you're ever in the area again, feel free to stop by."

"I'll make a point of it."

Hux's eyes dropped down to Kylo's lips, then met his eyes again. He took a step forward, hand raised, and Kylo took it, giving it a brief pump, a farewell handshake, even as his brain screamed at him  _ HE'S WAITING FOR YOU TO KISS HIM YOU FOOL _ . He could see a flash of disappointment in Hux's eyes as Hux shook his hand in return.

"Well, all right then. Until next time."

Kylo stood in his drive watching as Hux drove away, long past when the dust of his passage had settled. At last, he brought his hand to his lips, pressing his knuckle to them where it still tingled from the brush of Hux's thumb as he'd released Kylo's hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Kylo’s job interview wasn't a disaster, although he came out of it berating himself in all the ways he could have done better. He still received a letter several weeks later confirming he'd been selected to take over from Mr. Tekka, beginning the first of October.

The last week of September he helped load furniture and boxes into a U-Haul truck. Mr. Tekka's granddaughter and her husband had come to help, but he ended up doing most of the heavy lifting. He didn't mind.

"They've got me set up at this retirement community. Shuffleboard. Card games. Nutritionists." Mr. Tekka grumbled that last word as if it were a curse.

"Oh, grandpa, you're going to love it. You can walk to the beach from the center, and they have shuttles that can take you anywhere. And we'll be able to have dinner together every weekend."

He grumbled, but Kylo could tell he wasn't really unhappy. And his face lit up when his granddaughter took him aside and whispered something in his ear, placing his hand on her stomach.

After they pulled out, Kylo put up plywood over the windows and locked the door of the little house. He'd keep the place up but there probably wouldn't be a new tenant, his bosses had told him. A house with tombstones for neighbors wasn’t in high demand.

His new duties weren't much different from what he'd been doing already. He didn't have set hours, just a list of responsibilities. He stopped by every day, at irregular hours, even if there was no work to be done, checking on the place now that it was solely his responsibility, a strange protectiveness growing as the weeks passed.

At the same time, he began working on his own house, and his own life. Little things at first. Removing all the doors from the cabinets in his kitchen, he sanded them down and repainted the shelves. After refinishing he doors and putting the first one back up  he decided he liked them better without and sold off the doors at the next swap meet. He came home that day with a metal coffee press and a small freezer which only required a bit of tinkering to get back into working order. After that he started making large batches of foods that he froze in plastic containers, two to three servings a container. 

A few cookbooks also found their way into the kitchen. He made sure they each had instructions on how to make pancakes from scratch, and at least one of them had a version that didn’t use eggs. The next time he had company he’d have a variety of foods fit to serve.

His first attempt at re-grouting the tiles on the kitchen counter failed miserably and he did what he should have done in the first place and ripped them all out. A little bartering got him a granite counter, a miscut that had found its way into a local junk shop. With a bit of tinkering he got it to fit. A few visits to a couple of thrift stores netted him a new set of pots and pans and a bunch of mismatched dishes and several random pieces of glassware he liked, and all of a sudden he had a kitchen fit for company.

“Now I need someplace to sit while I eat.”

Weekly visits to Maz's TA had crept their way into his weekly routine. Tuesdays, for lunch, and an occasional Friday or Saturday night, for a burger and a pint. He’d taken to talking to himself in between, imagining someone to fill in the gaps in his conversation when there wasn’t anyone else around. This imaginary person usually had fiery red hair and a musical lilt to his nonexistent voice.

In short order he acquired a table and four mismatched chairs, all older pieces in need of a little love. After refinishing these, some scrap lumber became a real bookshelf and the cinderblocks moved out to the garden, marking out the start of a flowerbed beneath the kitchen window.

"Bulbs or annual?"

Bulbs were the least work. He picked out several varieties of tulips in shades of red.

The first snowfall caught him unawares, a couple of weeks before Halloween. He spent the morning switching over to his snow tires and checking the emergency kit he kept in his truck before heading out. This time of year especially, he needed to check the cemetery every day, to discourage potential vandals. They'd never had a problem in all the years he'd been visiting and he'd made a personal resolution that they wouldn't have an incident during his first month on the job.

When he drove in, his heart did that peculiar twist in his chest again when he caught a flash of red at the edge of his vision. A plastic bag fluttered in the wind, blowing across the unblemished snow. He broke that white landscape trudging after the bag, dark footsteps a stark contrast against all the blinding light. As he wove his way between the headstones he noticed the shadows in light dusting of snow on the stones, nature's own rubbings, outlining the carven words in white and grey.

When he caught up to the bag he folded it carefully, putting it in his pocket, instead of throwing it into the dumpster.

The weeks snuck past him, almost unnoticed. He stayed home for Christmas. He couldn’t not show up, though, not without letting the family know. The phone call went as well as he expected.

"No, mom, I'm not feeling up to the drive. ... Nothing serious, just a head cold, but I shouldn't be driving while on these medicines, not in wintertime. ... Yes, I've got food. ... I'll be fine, really. ... I love you too.  Give everyone a hug from me."

Leia knew he was lying but she let it go. He spent Christmas day painting, white walls for a white world.

Several days after Christmas a postcard came in the mail, picturing a ginger cat wearing a Santa hat and looking like ready to claw out the eyes of the photographer in revenge. It bore a simple message on the back.  _ Merry Christmas from Hux and Millicent _ . Hux had a PO box as the return address. New York, New York.

"Life in the big city been good to you?" he asked the card as he set it against the napkin holder on his new dining room table.

Springtime found him planning out his next new project: a spare room. A guest room. His house sat in unincorporated territory so he didn’t have to worry about building permits, he discovered. The first dry sunny day found him lying on the hood of his truck during his self-alloted lunch break, sketching out plans. He’d build off from the attic. A high ceiling, with exposed timbers, but with insulation and drywall in between. 

“Tall windows, or regular windows with some stained glass above, maybe?”

He’d seen some old pieces at the salvage shops that he could incorporate. A ceiling fan to circulate air, bring the warm air down in wintertime and up out of the way in summer. And he had to have a four poster bed - he’d always loved those.

Luckily, he'd been thrifty during the winter. There were lots of things he could scavenge and bargain for, but not wood in the quantities he'd need for framing.

He started mentally ticking off the days, trying to predict when Hux might visit. It had been in August last year, but could he assume the same timeframe for this year? Maybe he'd come in July. That was still summer. He might even show up at the end of June. Summer started in June. He should try to be done by the beginning of June, just in case. With the room at least. He could move his own bed into the guest room if he ran short on time.

The framing took longer than he expected, because he had to go and make things more complicated for himself. He'd found a set of old windows, transom and mullions, that he used to frame the picture window in the west wall. Miraculously all three pieces still had the old leaded glass intact. They'd been outside of his budget but he had to have them. If it weren't for his stash of frozen food it would have had him eating ramen noodles for most of the week before payday but the first time the setting sun shone through them, refracting and sending ripples of color through the room, he considered it well worth the cost.

"Rainbows every night," he said as he leaned back against the wall, watching the sun sink below the horizon.

The guest bed existed only as three posts by the end of July. He had moved his own bed into the new room at the beginning of the month, sleeping there, keeping a fresh set of sheets in the chest at the foot. A sudden influx of customers had kept him from his private projects. His bank account grew and his free time dwindled proportionally

Every day he checked his mail, waiting for another postcard. Every day he swallowed his disappointment when no word came. When the first week in August neared its end, he sent a postcard of his own. He couldn't find one with a rainbow on it so he settled for a silly one with a cat

_ How's the book coming? Looking forward to seeing you again _

It took three trips to the post office before he got up enough nerve to drop it in the box. The mailman’s daily visits after that left him even more anxious, as the days continued to pass with no response

He had to force himself to leave the house as August continued to tick away. Every time he did he left a note taped to the door, saying where he was and when he expected to get back. Every time he returned the note stared back at him, unmoved. On the thirtieth at last another postcard came, this time with a picture of a city skyline at sunset 

_ Couldn’t get away this year. In the crunch to get everything together to meet deadline. Maybe next summer? - _

The sting of his knuckles hit after his eyes focused again, on the new dent in the side of his mailbox. He’d crumpled the postcard in his fist. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you who've been reading and commenting so far!


	5. Chapter 5

Fall passed in a blur. He knew he got the things done that needed to be done but he didn’t remember any of it. Food disappeared steadily from his freezer, so he must have eaten, but he didn’t remember doing that either.

He did other things he didn't remember. Flipping through the sketchbook he kept, in which he doodled designs for his woodworking pieces, he found a pencil drawing of his cemetery, one he didn’t recall drawing. A faint image, almost ghostlike, of a man kneeling next to the tombstones provided the only bit of color, as he'd smudged in a bit of red pencil for the hair.

This year it didn't snow until the day before Thanksgiving. Leia had made him promise he'd come for both this holiday and Christmas to make up for missing last year and he hadn't been able to come up with any excuse good enough to get out of it. Not even a blizzard would have sufficed. The scant couple of inches that fell didn't even warrant a comment.

As he was digging through his kitchen drawers, searching for the lid for the container he'd put the cranberry sauce in, he found a bright red plastic bag in one back corner, creased at the folds. The creak of the wood brought him back to himself and he released his grip one finger at a time.

Leia still lived in the house she and Han had bought when he'd barely been a spark in her womb. The family home sported a new coat of paint since the last time he'd seen it, burgundy and grey instead of the tan and brown he remembered. It made coming home easier.

He hadn't been the first to arrive, another thing to ease his way. He'd barely cleared the door when Chewie grabbed him, making his ribs creak with a hug, then ruffling his hair before letting go. Lando's grandkids caught him next, the twins latching on to his knees and Breha tugging at his belt until he picked her up. Dragging the two giggling boys with each step (he still couldn’t tell them apart), he made his way into the kitchen, depositing the cranberry sauce in the refrigerator, the red bag standing out on the shelf amidst all the neutral colored pyrex.

"Kylo. You've gained some weight, I see." Malla greeted him with a wink and the kids cackled like the fiends they were. "Off with you now. I need Kylo to help with the potatoes." With a chorus of disappointed complaints, the boys let go. Breha threw her arms around his neck and deposited a sticky kiss on his ear before he could set her down.

"No more sweets until after dinner," he called after her as she ran off. Malla followed her husband's example, wrapping him up in her ample embrace, and he protested. "Take the stuffing out of the bird, not me, Auntie." She gave him one last squeeze before letting go.

“You peel now.” Shaking his head and grinning, he wiped the side of his face off with a dish towel before picking up the peeler. “Your mother went to go pick up Amylin. Her car broke down. They’ll be here soon.”

His reprieve lasted the bag of potatoes. He braced himself as the front door opened. Seconds later, Leia marched into the kitchen, Amylin trailing behind her. He bent down so Leia could kiss his cheek.

"It's good to see you, Be ... Kylo." She forced a smile, trying to cover up her slip. Amylin swept in, trying to smooth over the awkward moment.

"Hello, dear. I'm glad you could join us this year."

"You too, Ms. Holdo. I love your hair."

Amylin patted her purple curls. "Really? Your mother hates it."

"I love it even more now."

Leia started to say something and Amylin gave her that look of hers, the smile that hovered at the corners of her mouth, the one that either melted you or terrified you, depending on the situation. Before she could say anything else another round of greetings broke out. One of the twins raced into the kitchen.

“It’s Rey and Finn and Poe and Rose!” he shouted before racing off again.

Helping in the kitchen kept him away from most of the madness, until he got roped into helping set the table. It all started because he was the only one who could reach the top shelves where Leia kept the extra china. Well, he wasn’t the only one, but Chewie had volunteered to chop up firewood.  _ Smart man _ , Kylo thought, watching him through the kitchen window.

"We need places for eighteen."

"That's close to breaking the record, isn't it, mom?"

"Hardly. We had twenty seven one year. You were barely out of diapers then, so I'm not surprised you don't remember."

Leia had made place cards for everyone and fussed over the seating arrangement while Kylo doled out the plates. When Malla called her back to the kitchen, Luke appeared out of nowhere and picked the cards up, slipping them into his pocket.

"Our secret, kid," he whispered, winking at Kylo before wandering off again.

Unlike when he was younger, the kids got places at the main table. Lucky little monsters.

Luke and Wedge conspired to keep Leia running around until people began sitting down, so by the time she noticed her place cards had disappeared it was too late. When she opened her mouth to protest Luke shoved a bread roll in it.

"Shush, and sit."

She glared at him but let him get away with it, because it’s what Han used to do, and she’d let Han get away with it too.

He ended up sitting between Wedge and Poe, and across from Rey and Rose. He was all right with that. He also managed to end up on the other end of the table from his mother, which was okay too.

Conversation ebbed and flowed as the food disappeared as if by magic and to his surprise he found himself enjoying the company. He escaped to the porch after the table had been cleared, needing a few breaths of fresh air and the relative silence after living inside his own head for so long. He slipped back inside before anyone missed him, following his own personal tradition of taking a tiny wedge of each pie, alternating between bites. Pecan, pumpkin, eggnog cheesecake, mince, and cherry. As always, he couldn't pick a favorite.

He managed to keep the crowd between him and Leia for most of the evening, but she cornered him in the kitchen as he was trying to leave.

"Don't forget to take some leftovers," was all she said. His plastic container had been washed and refilled with stuffing, and another container appeared on top of it. "Day after Thanksgiving breakfast tradition,remember? Pie and stuffing."

That had been Han's thing too. He froze, hands halfway to taking the containers from her.

"It's been almost ten years, son. When are you going to accept that it wasn't your fault?"

He made his escape, her words ringing in his ears.

"Maybe in another ten years," he muttered as he started the engine.

The next morning, he mixed eggs and flour in with the stuffing, forming it into patties which he fried up in a bit of hot oil, and he washed them down with a piece of pecan pie.

Another postcard came shortly before Christmas, the same cat with the same murderous expression, but this time sporting a headband with reindeer horns.

_ Definitely will be in your area again this summer, _ Hux had scrawled after the pre-printed holiday greeting.  _ Still okay to stop by? _ This time instead of a post office box, there was a street address in the corner. Ardsley, New York. 

Leia had put the leftover containers back in the same red bag he'd brought the cranberry sauce in. He started to crumple it up and throw it in the trash, but stopped himself. Laying it flat and smoothing out the wrinkles, he folded it and put it back in the kitchen drawer.

He had the bed finished by the end of January. Thanks to word of mouth he ended up the winner of a lot of old furniture at an auction. He only needed a few of the pieces but he refinished all of it, taking the extras with him to the swap meet at the end of June. He didn't expect to get much for them but hoped to at least break even on what he'd spent.

The summer people had started to arrive so there were a few tourists mixed in with the locals. One older lady started to walk by, then came to a dead stop, eyebrow raised. She bought a small end table and slipped him an extra twenty over his asking price.

"You need to mark everything up by at least twenty five percent, young man. At the very least."

He sold out by noon. The very last piece, a tall dresser, he sold to an older couple, two gentlemen with elegantly silvered hair. He took an instant dislike to one of them so he went out of his way to close the sale with the other, even offering to deliver for a pittance when the grumpy one said they’d never fit it in their car, especially after finding out  where they lived.  Brighton Beach, a bit south of New York City.

It was more than an hour north up to Ardsley from the couples’ brownstone and the traffic had him driving white knuckled, tensing at every honk. By the time he found Hux's address, a toned-down colonial with a tacked-on garage, he'd gone beyond second guessing the impulse that had brought him there and merely drove past the house before heading straight home again. He caught a glimpse of an orange furry face peering out at him from an upstairs window before the tree in the front yard blocked the house from sight.

The pencil drawing, which he'd meant to leave no matter what stared up at him from the passenger’s seat the entire trip back, mocking him with another opportunity gone by.

He almost mailed it with a note, but talked himself out of that too. Instead, he found a frame for it, hanging it in the guest room next to the bed.

He dropped another postcard in the mail a few days later instead. This time he found one with a rainbow on it, over a field full of flowers in bloom.

_ Looking forward to summer. Any idea what dates you’ll be in the area? _

He got a reply back the same week.

_ Me too! Probably be there around the first week of August. Planning on staying for a few days, will have camping gear so don't feel like you have to put yourself out. _

Hux had barely fit all those words onto the back of the card, and the last sentence wandered along the bottom edge and up the side.

One month, give or take a few days. One more month.

He tried not to let himself get too worked up about it, but couldn't deny his mounting excitement, and when late in the afternoon on the third day of August tires crunched on the gravel of his drive he had to force himself not to rush out the house like a demented jack in the box. He put a kettle of water on to boil and measured out an insane amount of coffee grounds into his French press and set out two coffee mugs while waiting for a knock on the door.

When the knock came, he counted to five before going to answer it. His smile froze on his face after he opened it. Hux wasn't alone.

"Kylo! Good to see you again. This is my fiancee, Henri."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me! :D


	6. Chapter 6

Kylo invited them in, because what else could he do? Hux exclaimed in surprise when he took a look around.

"You've made some changes. It's hard to believe this is the same place!"

_ Because of you _ , he wanted to say, but he couldn't, not in the presence of this stranger who held Hux's hand in his own as they stood together in his living room. They complimented each other, he couldn't help but think. Both slender, but with hidden strength, pale and dark together. Henri's black hair contrasted with Hux's bright, and their clasped hands were night and day combined.

"That wasn't there before, was it? The house looked larger than I remembered when we drove up."

He'd left the door to the guest room open, and he followed along behind Hux as he dragged Henri over to it, pulled helpless in his wake.

Like the first time Hux has visited, Kylo was seeing his house through another's eyes again, but with everything filtered through a blurry lens. No, wait, that was the moisture in his eyes.

"You did this all yourself?" Henri had a faint accent too, but softer than Hux's. His words flowed together, a different kind of music but just as enchanting.

"Yeah. The place needed a lot of work when I bought it."

"So this is your profession, then?" Henri drifted around the edges of the room, coming to a stop in front of Kylo's pencil framed drawing. He stared at it, then at Kylo, catching him as he wiped away the tears threatening to fall. Understanding bloomed in Henri’s eyes.

Kylo looked away, clasping his hands behind his back, blinking furiously. "Um, kinda? I mean, I do a lot of things."

"I had no idea you were so talented, Kylo. This is amazing." At any other time the praise from Hux would have made his heart sing. The whistle of the kettle saved him.

"Oh, hey, the water's boiling. I assumed you'd want some coffee?"

That startled a laugh out of Henri. "You and your caffeine addiction. Everyone knows."

While the coffee brewed, he asked, "How did you two meet?" He congratulated himself on managing to keep his tone casual as he set out a third mug.

"We share a publisher," Hux said.

"We always ended up sitting in the waiting room together. After the third or fourth time, I asked him if he'd like to go for a cup of coffee after. We spent the whole afternoon drinking cup after cup. I didn’t go to sleep until after sunrise the next day. And here we are now." Henri squeezed Hux's hand and a fond smile passed between the two of them and Kylo could hardly bear it.

"Hang on a sec, I almost forgot something." Almost running, Kylo made a break for the garage. When the door shut behind him he forced himself to take deep, gulping breaths, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes to quiet the stinging.

"Breathe. Just keep breathing."

He pulled one of the ice trays from the freezer and carried it back inside.

"Did you know heavy cream freezes?" Cracking the tray and loosening the cubes, he set it on the counter. "I measured these out, one tablespoon each. They cool the coffee too. You can start drinking it right away."

"You are a coffee angel." Hux dropped two of the cubes in his mug and poured sugar in on top of them.

"Someday he’ll vibrate off this plane of existence," Henri said as he added some hot water from the kettle to his mug before Kylo poured him a cup. "I like coffee you don't have to chew.  _ Merci _ ."

He managed to smile and hold up his side of the conversation but by the time the second pot had brewed his cheeks had begun to ache. Hux didn't notice, but he caught Henri shooting him worried glances.

"You don't mind us staying?" Henri asked. "We wouldn't want to intrude.” After Kylo assured him that no, it wasn't an intrusion, he was happy to have them here, he nodded. "Hux, why don't you get our suitcases out of the truck, then?"

"Why me?"

"Because I drove all morning."

Hux grumbled, but relented, kissing Henri on the cheek before heading out to the truck. As soon as the door closed behind him, Henri blurted out, "I'm so sorry. He never told me there was anything between the two of you. I didn't know. Us showing up here like this must be such a shock."

"No, it's all right. We weren't ... I mean, there wasn't anything ... we're friends. Acquaintances, really."

"But you hoped for more. And he was oblivious, or thought you weren't interested. He is bad at this people thing, more often than not."

Hux returned with their luggage and Kylo didn't get a chance to respond. He couldn’t have voiced the things that came to mind even without the interruption.  _ Had Hux ever mentioned being interested in me? Does he talk about me often? What does he say about me? _

He played the gracious host to the best of his ability for the rest of the afternoon and evening. When he discovered Henri was a vegetarian he shelved his plans to make pancakes and bacon for breakfast, and they ended up at the TA because none of his options for dinner would serve and Maz had a black bean burger on the menu. 

All three of them crammed into the bench seat of Kylo's truck and he banged Henri's knee every time he shifted gears. Before they got out Hux insisted on taking a picture of the three of them. Pulling his cellphone out of his pocket, he put his arm across Henri’s shoulder and wrapped it around Kylo’s neck, fingers tangling in Kylo's hair as he drew him closer.  Somehow Kylo managed to smile.

Maz remembered Hux from his last visit, but that wasn't any surprise. She never forgot a face. Kylo avoided her questioning stares all through the meal, sipping at his beer and letting Hux carry the conversation more and more. He sat across them in the booth.  No foot pressed against his under the table this evening.

By the time they left the sun had set and he’d lost his chance to show them (Hux) the rainbow glass. When they got back to his house, Henri pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket.

“I get one a day,” he said as Kylo unlocked the door. “Unfair, yes? I should limit him to one cup of coffee a day in revenge." Some perverse urge struck Kylo and he sat down next to Henri instead of following Hux inside, legs dangling off the side of his porch. When Henri offered him the pack he took a cigarette. He hadn’t had one since high school, and he coughed when he inhaled, throat burning from the smoke.

"Am I being a bad influence?"

"No, I’m good at doing that all by myself."

They finished the cigarettes in silence. Henri had an amazing talent for blowing smoke rings. When they ground the butts out neither of them made any move to go back inside. At last Hux stuck his nose out.

"Are you two going to stay out here all night?"

"Maybe. These stars, Hux!"

"I know. Aren't they incredible?"

Hux retreated after a few minutes, muttering about mosquitoes.

"They come to you because you are too sweet,  _ mon cher _ ."

"That's the first time anyone's ever accused me of that."

After another sleepless night Kylo did make pancakes from scratch for breakfast, minus the bacon, and served them on his mismatched china with real maple syrup. His brain remained stuck on the loop that had kept him awake. If he'd only kissed Hux at the train crossing. If he'd only kissed Hux before he left.  _ If onlies _ had ruled his entire life. Ruled and ruined.

As they were finishing up, Hux's cellphone rang, vibrating the table. Well, rung wasn't quite the right word for it. It emitted a strange chirping, chittering sound. Picking it up, he swore when he saw the number.

"Excuse me," he said, and headed outside as he answered.

"That's his cat, Millicent. His ringtone. It's the noise she makes when she's birdwatching. He loves that cranky old beast, and she loves him and only him. I'm amazed he can find a cat sitter that will put up with her."

“The Christmas cat from the postcards?”

“ _ Oui. _ ” 

Hux was only gone a few minutes. When he returned, his face was pale.

“Something is the matter?” Henri asked.

“It’s my father. He had a heart attack last week, but wouldn’t let Maratelle call me, and now he’s had a stroke. I’m sorry Kylo. I need to get back.”

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

He sent them off with food for the road, wrapped in shrink wrap and placed carefully in the red plastic bag he dug out of his kitchen drawer, waving from the porch as the truck drove up his driveway and out of sight.

Long after they left the echoes of them remained. Echoes in the rumpled sheets on the bed, the bed Hux had shared with someone besides him. Echoes in the faint trace of smoke that lingered on the porch, the cigarette he'd shared with the man who'd taken the initiative where he had not. Echoes in the light that danced across the walls of the spare room that afternoon, the light he'd never gotten a chance to share.

The old leaded glass proved sturdier than his mailbox. He bloodied his knuckles on one of the panes and it rattled in the frame, but it stood firm.

When he stopped by the gas station the next day he bought a pack of cigarettes. Every night, he sat on his porch, allowing himself one smoke. When he reached the end of the pack, he crushed it, letting it lay where it fell.

"That's enough," he told himself. "That's enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch 7 may be a little late posting. I'm incredibly busy through the end of February. I'll hopefully be back on track soon.


	7. Chapter 7

No Christmas card came that year. Kylo didn't even note the absence until well after New Year's. The holidays had come and gone in a pleasant way. They'd only been twelve at Leia's for Thanksgiving and it had been him, Leia, Chewie and Malla for Christmas. He surprised everyone, himself included, by offering to host at his place.

He'd decided that fall to finish the attic and spent a frantic couple of days relocating rolls of insulation and sheets of drywall he’d been storing in the living room. It was already a tight fit in the garage right now, what with all the furniture in various stages of rehabilitation and the pieces of the spiral staircase he planned to install in place of the drop down ladder to his pending second floor.

Leia's surprise at seeing his place turned into a long conversation about all his plans, and they ended up squeezing into the garage together so he could show them all his various projects.

He managed to keep most of the meal simple but they still ended up with four pies. He didn't make enough stuffing.

"We'll have to settle for two slices of pie for breakfast tomorrow," Leia said when she kissed him goodbye.

"You mean you don't normally?" Chewie roared in laughter at Malla's reply, enfolding her in one of his giant hugs.

The year passed almost without him noticing. What with finishing the attic, which turned into a bedroom loft after he kept removing more and more of the ceiling while installing the spiral staircase, and his burgeoning furniture business on top of the caretaker job, the days flew by.

Shortly after the next Thanksgiving a package arrived, rectangular and heavy, wrapped in brown paper over cardboard. It contained a book.

_ Forgotten Graveyards of the Northeast _ , the cover read,  _ by Armitage Hux. _ Hux had signed the title page and addressed it to him. He found a card tucked in at the start of the section on his cemetery.

_ Thought you might want to see this. I can't believe it's finally in print. _

Hux had done an incredible amount of research. The history of each cemetery was outlined, as well as bits about some of the people buried at the different sites. Interspersed with pictures of the various graveyards were old black and white photos or sepia tintypes, and Hux's rainbow tombstone rubbings.    


He read the book cover to cover, and then read it again.

That spring he got his first visitors. A young couple pulled up to the graveyard one afternoon.

"We're doing a tour," they told him. They had a copy of Hux's book on the front seat of their car.

Another one showed up in June, and three in July, that he knew of. He picked up the remains of two picnic lunches, at least, and talked to another set of visitors, a family. Their oldest boy tried his hand at making a rubbing. He asked Kylo permission, very earnest, and also asked if he had any stones that he shouldn't touch.

"I don't want to damage anything. That would be bad."

He resisted the urge to ruffle the boy's hair, remembering how much he'd hated that when he was the boy's age.

The visitors started an idea percolating at the back of his head. He let it simmer over the summer and presented it to his boss at the beginning of September. A few weeks later, his boss asked him to come to the next city council meeting. He went into the meeting a ball of nerves, stomach doing flip flops in anticipation of speaking in public. He left in a happy haze. Formal approval came through the channels and the next week he found himself leading a work party.

The next Memorial Day he watched as the ribbon was cut on the opening of the new Historical Society Museum, located in the old caretaker's cottage. The upkeep of the building had been added to his responsibilities, which he expected. The raise that came with the increase in his workload came as a surprise. He still found time to rebuild his porch, expanding it so it wrapped around the front of his house and the kitchen side, and adding a porch swing.

Late that spring, the county also began construction on the highway that ran by town, expanding it from two to four lanes. It caused occasional slowdowns as heavy machinery lumbered down the road, but Kylo found he didn't mind. The construction had its benefits. Well, benefit. It came in the form of a cheerful fellow with red hair and an abundance of freckles and a grin that made you feel like the whole world was a joke waiting to be shared. Kylo didn't see him every day, but regularly enough, holding the giant SLOW sign at the beginning of the construction zone. It had been the red hair that caught his attention first, with a hint of the old heart pangs, but it morphed into something else. One morning he had to wait while a dump truck maneuvered into place and he got to exchange a few words, and names. Steve had brilliant blue eyes, that put the summer sky to shame. He went to college in Emory, in Georgia, and worked summers to help with tuition. He'd find a job and drive his rattletrap old Volvo station wagon there, find a roommate or two or three for the duration, visit family for a couple of weeks at the end of summer and head back to school every fall.

"Last year I went up to Alaska and worked on the railroads." He spoke with a slight twang, words drawn out and consonants rounded.

On the first Friday of August he wandered into Maz's TA and found Steve sitting with a handful of the construction crew at the bar. Instead of taking his usual booth, he sat with them. Finding out they both grew out their hair to cover their ears, he and Steve clinked bottles and shared a conspiratorial grin. He also found out Steve was eight inches shorter than him.  Steve’s personality fooled the brain into thinking there was more of him. When he sat on a barstool and Steve stood that put them on a level.

He stayed longer than he planned, not noticing the bar clearing out around them. When the other construction workers tried to collect Steve and leave, Kylo offered him a ride home, not willing to end the evening.

"You could take me to your home instead," Steve said, letting his hand brush against Kylo's where it lay on the bar.

"I'd like that."

He kissed Steve in the parking lot, pressed up against the passenger door of his truck. The height difference made things awkward at first, but Steve took a firm grip on Kylo's shoulders and hoisted himself up, wrapping his legs around Kylo's waist.

"Get a room, you two," Maz hollered out the window, and they broke apart, grinning.

Steve put his hand on top of Kylo's on the gearshift as they drove, tracing the contours of Kylo's knuckles with his thumb. Light as the touches were, they still made him shiver.

He didn't bother with the lights and Steve didn't seem to mind. The stairs were too much of a bother so they ended up on the four poster bed.

"Tell me what you like," Steve murmured in his ear as his hands made quick work of Kylo's shirt.

"I'm not sure," Kylo admitted. His previous experience had been limited to fumblings in the back seat of cars, infrequent and years in the past.

"Let's find out then, shall we?"

He woke the next morning with a mouthful of Steve’s hair and drool on his shoulder. He found he didn't mind either. The loss of circulation in his arm was another matter. With a bit of shifting around, he managed to flop over on his back with Steve on top of him, still nestled into the crook of his neck. Letting his eyes wander around the patterns he'd carved into the canopy frame, he lay there, soaking in the warmth of Steve's presence next to him.

He'd never put a clock in the guestroom, so the passage of time remained a mystery. Eventually Steve stirred, stretching out full length against him.

“Morning,” Steve practically purred. “It is still morning, isn't it?”

“No clue.”

“Should we get up?” Steve burrowed in closer to him.

“I think it’s pretty obvious you don’t want me to tell you yes.”

Laughter washed over his skin.

They did get up, eventually. Steve slid back into his jeans, but left them unbuttoned, so they hung precariously low on his hips. His eyes sparkled as he caught Kylo staring, 

"Do you want some coffee?"

Scrunching up his nose in distaste, Steve shook his head. "Not really a fan. Do you have any tea?"

Kylo did. With the opening of the museum being his idea, he'd found himself considered an honorary member of the historical society. He'd attended several meetings, bemused at the fact that he was the only man there, and the only person under sixty-five. Meetings consisted of sitting around eating little sandwiches with the crusts cut off, nibbling on cookies and drinking cup after cup of tea while listening to the ladies chatter. It was mostly gossip, but occasionally a bit of local history would crop up. He'd scandalized the group when he brought tea bags once and had been given a thorough education into the brewing of a proper pot.

While waiting for the water to boil he gave Steve a quick tour. Once they finished, Steve cocked his head, giving him a bemused look.

"You don't have a computer. I've never met anyone who didn't have a computer. What about a cellphone?"

"Never wanted one. Hardly anyone ever calls me anyways."

"But what if you break down? Or hurt yourself?"

He'd never really thought about it. "I guess I'll do what people did before cellphones were invented."

After breakfast he offered to take Steve home.

“Do you want to get rid of me so soon?”

“No, but don’t you want to pick up a change of clothes or something?”

“Who needs clothes?” 

Steve did borrow one of Kylo’s shirts and a pair of socks later that day, and Kylo took him out to the graveyard. On the trip out, Steve’s cellphone rang.

“Yeah, no, I’m good. Not dead or anything like that. … None of your business. … I’m hanging up now.”

“Your roommate?”

“One of them, yeah. They’re a good bunch.”

They held hands as they walked in between the stones. A pair of white haired heads watched them from the window of the museum. He could make a good guess as to what would be the first agenda item at the next society meeting. Hopefully the ladies hadn’t spotted the two of them making out in his truck in the parking lot like a couple of teenagers.

He took Steve home late Sunday afternoon, “home” being the house where he rented a room in the next town over.

“I wish I’d started talking to you sooner,” Steve told him in between goodbye kisses. “Summer’s almost over.”

He spent the next weekend at Kylo’s too, and the next, and then Kylo helped him pack his things into the back of his station wagon.

“My life fits into six milk crates and a suitcase. Kind of sad, isn’t it?” Steve said as he closed the hatchback.

“It’s nice. Carefree. Nothing holding you back.”

“Yeah.” They stared at each other, the silence stretching out, until Steve spoke again. “I won’t be back next summer.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update. It's been a crazy week. I'm hoping to resume normal posting for the last couple of chapters, but the words aren't being all that cooperative so Ch 8 might be late again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where that "past character death" tag comes in. Mention of drunk driving in this chapter too.

That winter Kylo took up a new hobby. He'd found a book on woodcutting at the library sale earlier in the year, and as the weather worsened he holed up in his garage. An old pot belly stove kept the space toasty warm as he worked his way through trial and error on pieces of scrap wood. For his first project, he used his sketch of his graveyard.

His first four attempts ended up as firewood, but the fifth came out well enough that he decided to try to make a print with it. The first attempts at these made good kindling, but at last he got the hang of it.

It wasn't until he put the print next to the original that he realized he'd left out the form of the man kneeling in front of one of the tombstones.

He sent Hux a card this year, mailing it off a couple of weeks before Christmas. He’d added a note below the pre-printed sentiment.

_ Hope the wedding went well. Congrats to you both! _

No card came in response. He poked at this realization, like worrying at a cold sore with the tip of his tongue, and found that it brought forth no response, which left him feeling strangely empty. 

That winter they’d had record high temperatures and hardly any snow, but the weather forecast predicted that would change soon. Blizzard warnings were issued and Kylo checked on the museum in preparation. They closed it down after tourist season ended every year and as usual he'd carefully boarded up the windows and padlocked the door at the end of October. He knew he'd been thorough, but he also knew he'd fret if he didn't check again. Everything was fine, of course.

The wind started to pick up as he drove home and the first flurries of snow began to fall before he’d gotten halfway home, huge wet flakes that splattered against his windshield and stuck to the ground. Within minutes the fields to other side of the road disappeared under a blanket of white.

He found a strange car parked in front of his house when he pulled up, a sporty number completely unsuitable for country driving in any weather, let alone winter. White plumes of exhaust issued from its twin pipes, rapidly dissipating in the wind. The windows were tinted so darkly he couldn't see inside.

Parking his truck, he got out and approached the car. As he neared the door flew open and he gasped in astonishment as Hux emerged.

"I'm sorry for just dropping in on you like this, but I needed to see you. Can I come in?"

"Yes, of course. Is it just you?"

"Just me."

"What about Henri?"

"It seems it's lucky we'd decided on a long engagement."

The snow dotted Hux's hair with giant flakes and Kylo could see him shiver. They could continue this conversation inside, he decided. "Do you have a bag? I don't think we're going to want to come outside later."

Hux was as poorly dressed for the cold as his car was fit for driving in it. He wore a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, and a navy blue blazer over grey slacks. His shoes were shiny leather and just as slippery. Kylo caught Hux by the arm on the stairs when the ice took him by surprise, pulling him close to keep him upright. Hux clung to him, still shivering, and Kylo could hear his teeth chattering.

"Come on, let's get you inside."

Hux wrapped his arm around Kylo's waist as he unlocked the door, huddling against him. Once they were inside he didn't let go. Instead, he pulled Kylo closer, stealing the breath from him, pressing his cheek against Kylo's.

"Hux, are you okay?"

His arms had moved of their own accord, one wrapping around Hux's shoulders, the other settling at the small of his back. Hux hadn't stopped shivering, and he could feel the pounding of Hux's heart against his own chest. The moment stretched on and he could have stood there forever, counting out one beat for every day they hadn't spent together.

"It is true, isn't it?" Hux asked at last. "I didn't imagine it?"

"Imagine what?"

"You. This."

He didn't let words get in the way, didn't let the conscious parts of his brain stop him. Instead of answering him, Kylo did what he should have done all those years ago and kissed him. Kissed him like he should have all those years ago. Kissed him like he'd been starving and Hux was the finest of meals laid out before him, kissed him like he'd been dying for lack of air and he'd steal the last breath from Hux's lungs and give it back to him again and it was better than every kiss he'd ever imagined they'd share, oh so much better, and Hux stole his breath back, laughing as tears glistened in his eyelashes.

"Tell me I'm not dreaming again," Kylo said. "Tell me I get to find out if my idea of you matches the reality."

"Only if you'll do the same."

For the rest of the night they traded stories in between more kisses, curled up on the sofa together, huddled under a pile of blankets to ward off the chill that crept through the room as the hours passed.

"I could turn up the thermostat."

Hux's arms tightened around him before he could move.

"But then you'd have to let me go."

In the timeless tranquility of early morning, Kylo finally asked the question he should have begun with.

"About Henri?"

“He wasn’t you." Hux's arms tightened, and Kylo rested his cheek against the top of Hux's head. "He'd always said I kept a distance between us, and it's only gotten worse and he realized after we came here he told me he knew my heart wasn't his, that I'd always be so in love with the idea of you, and he left."

“But you knew him. You spent time together. Days, weeks. You don’t know hardly a thing about me.”

“I know, but I couldn’t let go of the thought of what we might have if I'd only try."

"I always regretted not kissing you when you left that first time, you know." Kylo admitted.

"Why didn't you?"

"Because you were leaving, and I didn't think you'd ever be back, and I didn't want to torture myself with might-have-beens." He laughed, his breath ruffling Hux's hair. "Yeah, that worked out great."

Their conversations meandered on towards dawn. As the first blush of dawn colored the horizon they disentangled from each other, the cracks of both their jaws as they yawned bringing sleepy smiles to each of their faces.

"Coffee?"

"Need you ask?"

While the water boiled Hux took a seat at the kitchen table, running his fingers over the swirls in the wood.

"I still can't believe you did all this yourself. I risk losing a fingernail every time I pick up a hammer."

"My first toy I remember was a toolbox my dad bought me. It was bright red and had a bunch of plastic tools in it. I'd follow my dad around in his garage and bang on everything with my fake hammer while he worked." For once the memory didn't pinch at the corners of his brain.

"Do you still work together sometimes?" Hux asked.

"No." This time his throat didn't close up, his brain didn't shut down, when he thought about it.

"My dad died when I was seventeen. I'd just told my parents I wasn't going to college. We got into an argument and I stormed off. Got in my truck and drove away. I went to the old quarry that night instead of the cemetery, and I spent the night there, lying in the bed of my truck, staring up at the stars."

The words spilled from Kylo's lips and he wouldn't, couldn't look at Hux.

"I didn't know until I got home that dad had gone out looking for me. He'd had a couple of beers already before we fought, and he had a few more after, and maybe a few shots of something stronger. The police say he hit an oil slick. He lost control, rolled his car. He wasn't wearing his seatbelt. Everyone told me it wasn't my fault. They still tell me."    


“Someday you’ll believe them.”

“Yeah, I tell myself that all the time.”

“Here’s to someday, then.” Hux mimed a toast with his empty coffee mug.

They ended up raiding Kylo’s dresser after breakfast, for wool socks and sweaters, as Hux found strange gaps in his suitcase when he unpacked.

“I wasn’t really thinking,” he admitted, as he held up a short sleeve button-up. “I just threw a bunch of things into a bag.”

Snow still fell, huge fat flakes floating down, splatting when they hit the windshield of Kylo’s truck. His snow tires got them out of his driveway onto the plowed county road. 

“Where are we going?” Hux asked.

“Guess.”

Even with the snow tires on Kylo’s truck getting up to the main road proved a bit of a challenge. The plows had been by and he hopped out to clear the pile of snow that had mounded up at the edge of the road before pulling out. Throwing the shovel back into the bed of his truck, he hopped back in the cab, cranking the heat as soon as he shut the door.

“I’m beginning to wonder at your sanity,” Hux said as they fishtailed their way out onto the road.

“Just now?”

They had another dicey moment when Kylo turned onto the small gravel road that lead to the graveyard, hair-raising bookends for their trip as they bounced over another lumpy accumulation at the turnoff. As they stomped through the snow from the parking lot, he fumbled with the giant mitten that engulfed Hux's hand.

"Stop that. You'll pull it off." Hux wrapped an arm around his waist instead and he reciprocated. He'd swaddled Hux in a stocking cap and an old Mackintosh over three of his sweaters and he could barely feel Hux's slim form beneath all the layers. It went all the way down to his feet - Hux had on two pairs of wool socks, keeping his feet from swimming in a pair of Kylo's galoshes.

"I feel like that kid in A Christmas Story," Hux groused as they waded through the drifts.

"What christmas story?"

He nearly fell when Hux came to a sudden halt, staring at him.

"What alternate reality have you been living in?"

"You're not the first person to ask me that."

They shuffled through the snow until they reached the split rail fence.

"Right here," Kylo said, and without warning he let himself fall backwards into the snow, pulling Hux down with him, grinning like a fool at Hux's outraged shriek.

"That was so uncalled for," Hux said when he got his breath back.

"Nah. It was symmetry. I like symmetry."

"I can't believe I went and fell in love with a lunatic."

Any thoughts of cold or snow were chased away by Hux’s words, and by the kisses that followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there! Hope this chapter made up for all the angst in the previous ones.
> 
> (Hux is referencing [this movie](https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0085334/?ref_=nv_sr_2), specifically [this scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HW4IZ0Flh3M), towards the end there.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are at the end at last. It took more than a month longer than I planned, but it is done. Hope it was worth the wait, and thank you all for all the kudos and kind comments! _blows kisses_

Clouds covered the sky for the rest of the day, so they didn’t miss any rainbows from the windows in the spare bedroom when they fell asleep together that afternoon, wrapped around each other in a cocoon of blankets on the sofa.

Kylo didn’t remember waking up in the middle of the night, but they must have, because when consciousness returned to him he found them both in his bed upstairs in the loft. Instead of wasting time wondering how and when it happened, he focused on admiring how the soft morning light filtering through the drapes from below lit Hux with a fiery halo, diffused across the pillow next to him.

Time passed, and Hux showed no signs of stirring. Finally giving in to the demands of his bladder, Kylo slid out of bed, careful not to disturb him. Once he’d answered nature’s call he started water boiling for coffee, then drifted into the spare room, following a vague impulse that solidified when his gaze fell on the wood burning on the wall.

Lifting it from the hook, he took the piece down, a frown creasing his forehead as the absence of Hux in the piece hit him fully.

“I should do something about that,” he said to no one in particular.

By the time Hux joined him in the garage, steaming mug in hand, blanket wrapped around him like a shawl, he’d nearly finished.

“What on earth are you up to?” Hux asked as he finished the last curve with his jigsaw. Kylo tapped it twice and a piece popped out.

“Here,” he said, showing it to Hux.

“Is that ....?”

“You. For me to keep when you’re not here. You take the other piece back with you, so I’ll always be with you too.”

Hux's coffee got cold before he got around to drinking it.

The clouds began breaking up shortly after noon, leaving them both squinting against the glare.

"Why is it still freezing?" Hux pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders as they sat on the porch swing.

"It'll get colder now. We've lost our sky blanket. We could go back inside, you know."

"In a little bit."

The sky cooperated that afternoon, with only a few wispy clouds scooting across the across the brilliant blue as the sun traveled westward.

"I've been waiting for years to show you this," Kylo told Hux as he took his hand, leading him into the spare bedroom. "And no, it's not what you think," he said as Hux's eyebrows shot up.

The sun had just begun to sink into view and scattered flickers of color danced across the bedspread as the first rays of light refracted through the transom panes. Hux didn't notice them until Kylo pointed them out, but once they'd been brought to his attention he stared, entranced, as they crawled along the coverlet and the floor. His hand had found its way into Kylo's, and Kylo brought it to his lips, brushing soft kisses along Hux's knuckles as rainbows blazed across the room, amplified by the reflection of the setting sun on the drifts of snow in the yard.

When the sun had fallen behind the treeline and the last hints of color faded, Hux turned to Kylo, eyes aglow.

"That was one of the most incredible things I've ever seen."

"You liked it?"

"Liked is too mild a word."

"It was for you. This was all for you."

At last he'd said the words he'd held inside for so long. He took in a shuddering breath, letting it out in a rush when Hux squeezed his hand, leaning into him.

"Thank you."

Two words, the simplest of words, but said with such warmth that no other words were necessary. Something broke in of Kylo, bands that had constricted, squeezed against him, kept him inside himself for so long he'd forgotten what it felt like to be free. He didn't realize he'd begun crying until Hux reached up, wiping his cheek dry.

"Are you all right?"

"I am now."

Hux left when the snow melted, three days later. He left with apologies, and kisses, and the wood burning, wrapped carefully in a blanket and strapped into the passenger seat of his car. He left with promises that he'd be back soon, and extracted his own promises from Kylo.

That next week, Kylo sat with his calendar in front of him, the schedule of events for the historical museum next to it, making notes on both. Comparing the two painstakingly, he chewing at the tip of his pencil as he scowled at the two papers, eventually circling one week on both.

Making a trip into the library, he navigated the HR page on the state website and submitted his very first ever vacation request, for time off at the end of April.

Several days later a package arrived, a small box wrapped in brown paper. The return address brought a smile to his face. Slitting the paper, he found it contained a cellphone and a hand-written note.

_ I've spent the last few years thinking of you at the most random moments. There have been so many times that I've come across something that I wanted to share with you, and now I can and will. My number is already programmed in and the phone is charged, so all you have to do is turn it on. _

Kylo read through the booklet enclosed in the box, studying the diagram to locate the power button. When the phone finished running through its startup cycle, the display settled into a picture of Hux, leaning back in a stuffed armchair, with his cat perched on the back over his shoulder. It glared out at Kylo through the screen.

"Don't worry, kitty. I can share," he told it. "And I do like cats."

With a little fiddling, he figured out the camera setting and took a picture of his own, afternoon rainbows playing across his face. He sent his first text message shortly afterwards. That opened him up to a flood of texts in return. He adjusted quickly, and soon he couldn’t imagine what his life had been like without the constant reminder that someone thought of him throughout the day.

Weeks flew by and winter turned to spring, with its rains and its mud and its flowers. This year every storm seemed to produce a giant rainbow that blazed across the sky, promising the most precious of treasures at its end. In what seemed like the blink of an eye he reached that week on his calender, the one circled in red, with big block letters written across it.  _ VISIT HUX. _

When he made the trip to the little house in Ardsley for the second time  Kylo weathered the drive better. He pulled up to the little house without any of the nervous tension that had accompanied him the first time he’d made the trip. The drapes parted as he walked up the driveway and a familiar furry orange face stared out at him. When he rang the doorbell the cat disappeared with a scrabbling of claws on the windowsill. He heard footsteps from within the house, and Hux’s muffled voice.

“Yes, we’ve got company, sweetheart. You be nice now.”

Hux opened the door, holding the cat in his arms, a smile breaking out over his face and turning up the corners of his eyes.

“Hi.”

**Author's Note:**

> At the time of posting the first chapter, I've got the whole thing mostly written. I expect to update weekly, as there are lots of other things going in my life right now and I still need to do some editing. It's projected to end at nine chapters. My outline started at six, but I've been pretty much on track up until now with my outline, so I don't think it'll grow much past that.
> 
> If you love this and want to see more, please [share the moodboard](https://thewightknight.tumblr.com/post/169828503068/someday-well-find-it-kylo-had-begun-visiting-the)!! And feel free to [come say hi on tumblr](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/)!


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